A keresés eredménye

For being few

To cry for the dead ones
we are all brave
to cry for the dead ones
there's always lots of people
 
But to die for the people
is a crazy thing
to die for the people
there are very few - there are very few
 
and we look for guilties
when they kill a brave man
and we look for guilties
when an innocent dies.
 
The murderers were not
We were
we let them die
for being few
Lara lara lara larai
larai larai lara lara
we let them die
for being few
 
For fighting with the fruit workers
and showing us the way
for fighting with the fruit workers
they killed Sandino
 
For wanting to give us the land
fighting from bush to bush
for wanting to give us the land
Emiliano Zapata died
 
For wanting to fight for everyone
like a standing Quijote
for wanting to fight for everyone
they killed the Che too.
 

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Paysandú

recited:
When peace was signed
the historians say
that it was done without defeated
and without winners.
But there was indeed a defeated
even if was only the homeland
and a disease for everybody
that for being common, it's no longer that.
Because for obtaining the favours
the commendable mercenaries
gifted Brazil
half of the territory!
But we couldn't assure
to have them as friends,
soon they would need
to be helped again.
And so in 1863,
back to the old ways
under the double blasphemy
of invoking God and homeland.
 
sung:
They surrounded our plaza,
they're bombarding us,
the brazilians that
Venancio brought have came.
They went up the river
the boats to shoot the cannons
and by land we're surrounded
by colorados and brazilians.
 
The general stands his ground
and with him, all the gauchos
we lack everything
except bravery
we'll throw the weight around
while we have breath.
They were going to sweat for a while
before putting us to the sword
 
Days were passing
houses were falling
and that thunder of cannons
and that rain of bullets
And the people don't sleep
and the ammo runs out
and the death yet to come
and the life, and the life not passing.
 
Paysandu has surrendered
there's not an entire wall
Paysandu has surrendered
and brazilians came in,
the bodies can't endure
with the weight of the souls
and the bravery shakes
by seeing the white flag.
 
The General surrendered
to save the whole population
the General surrendered
but not to the brazilians
because true to his feelings
firm with his ideals
he will trust in his brothers
he surrendered to the easterns.
 
And the platoon is forming
and the drums roll
and the fusils aim,
aim at Leandro Gomez
and the discharge bounces
and a homeland piece dies
and the blood spills
and is of the color, of the color of infamy.
 
recited:
That's how Leandro Gomez fell
like the brave Lucas Piriz,
Azambuya, Emilio Raña
and the Captain Benavides.
The deads of Paysandú
keep the flame alive
of those who pretend
a sovereign homeland.
Independence or death!
That way that brave man swelled
the list of the dead for freedom
Damned traitors! Damned their memory!
Damned the blasphemous of history!
May a lightning strike you all!
Damned the sellouts to the empire!
 

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The crusade

sung:
It's been five years, vidalita
that are dark years
the exiled leader, vidalita
send us to the empire.
 
recited:
Are five years that show
the cracks in the people.
Easterns who conspire
and easterns who sell themselves.
In the sky of the homeland
black circles are traced
by the crows that try to please
the scum of the empire.
But fortunately there are pure men
there are men of whole core
who don't rot by the praise
neither slack for money
The chained freedom
stops feeling fear.
By the darkness of the river
people comes in two barges.
 
sung:
At the shore of the Agraciada beach
they get down of the barges in the early morning
they spread their flag 'Freedom or death',
willing to gamble the same fate.
A bull roar rips the autumn
when everybody answers: -yes, Juan Antonio-.
A la huella, a la huella and so ends here
the brazilian nickname of Cisplatina
laralay lara layla...
the brazilian nickname of Cisplatina
 
recited:
Thirty three easterns thirty three men
who gathered the bravery of the land
who gave birth to the glory of heroism
to make the new homeland be born.
 
sung:
Ride your horses soon and march quick
punch the brazilians while running.
While they pass the gauchos follow
on front Lavalleja and Manuel Oribe
and so at Piedra Alta in Florida
they declare the province free and united.
A la huella, a la huella and so ends here
the brazilian nickname of Cisplatina
laralay lara layla...
the brazilian nickname of Cisplatina
 
recited:
The plains of sarandí
are suddenly being born to the history
for a furious charge
that redoubles with glory
that the gauchos laid
and the hooks overtook
that seems that came
an unicorns charge
On front Lavalleja,
takes death on the legs
and death also takes
the rifle with a sword
 
sung:
A la huella, a la huella
and so ends here
the brazilian nickname of Cisplatina
 

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Tabaré

While everyone are singing happy
christmas carols
the charrua indians dozes
the deep infinite nostalgia
with the death of the great Tabaré.
 
Even the mount shakes fiercely
and the brooks seem to cry
and a pain gets into the night
and in the mount shaking quietly
lonely and sad in its flight the thrush.
 
Your song is no longer heard
the sorrow took it away
and there lost in the mountain
a quiet pain cries.
 
Even the mount shakes fiercely
and the brooks seem to cry
and a pain gets into the night
and in the mount shaking quietly
lonely and sad in its flight the thrush.
 
Your song is no longer heard
the sorrow took it away
and there lost in the mountain
a quiet pain cries.
And there lost in the mountain, oh!
a quiet pain cries.
 
Tabaré !
Tabaré !
 

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Broken spare

recited:
1897, and again revolution,
in their fields of Cerro Largo
a collision is made.
Under the smoke of the discharge
there's an unleashed fury,
that leaves the horsefields
with spilled blood.
For many the night comes
when is still broad daylight,
with the hot remingtons
and the cold spares.
When another day rises
the field is unpopulated,
there is no smoke of discharge,
there are no shaken screams.
There's a cementery silence
that wraps all the spot
and only a broken spare
stains the bravery.
And an air of huella is heard
full of pain and anger
telling that in Arbolito
Chiquito Saravia fell.
 
sung:
Adjust your spares well in the guadas,
after the dance starts there is no turning back.
Go kneeling like a patridge,
to see how many men has Muniz.
And change your horses in the morning
to have fresh ones for the troops
A la huella, a la huella bravery and spear,
and wrapped in the hat white insignias.
 
Despite the bravery with which they charge
the red insignias are winning.
The lancer who sees all lost
yells: Charge! and ends stretched out.
Without looking who follows him by Arbolito,
charging against the bullets Chiquito fell.
A la huella, a la huella bravery and spear,
and wrapped in the silence white insignias.
 

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The toy soldiers

When I was little I had toy soldiers
Lead toy soldiers all alike
Some on a horse, others crawling
Others with fusil and always standing.
 
And I did battles without shoots nor sticks
Without tommy guns noise nor good or bads
And they were all obedients in their places
If one went broke I had a replacement.
 
And it was the head what they always lost
poor toy soldiers with empty souls!
Then I became a man through many roads
One has to walk a lot to find a destiny
 
And the illusions and the hopes
The lost dreams that are never reached.
But my soldiers grew too
They loaded their weapons and they go emplty
 
And they spreaded by many countries
Without leaving happy memories to anybody.
And even they reached the highest positions
If they remove one there's always a replacement
That's why I can't see them with affection
Children don't dream with these soldiers.
 
No my general, no my colonel
Children don't dream, don't dream with him
No my general, no my colonel
Children don't dream, don't dream, how good
 

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Baltasar Brum

recited:
In 1933 again
interests that are unknown to this land
chain the freedoms again
and place as dictator Gabriel Terra.
The insult that the perjured done to the motherland,
found everybody with dead consciences.
Only Baltasar Brum was brave,
only Baltasar Brum was ashamed.
 
sung:
There they are, these few don Baltasar,
four or five are with him.
And they've been at the door, vidalita
almost all the morning.
 
Bravery of a lonely man, don Baltasar,
because he stood himself firm alone
the shirt open to the chest, vidalita
and a gun in hand.
 
Where are you Colonels and Generals?
Where is that party that elected me?
Where are you, montevidean citizens?
Where are you officers of the nation?
 
They come to arrest him, vidalita
and he replies shooting.
Life isn't what matters, don Baltasar,
it's another thing.
 
Loneliness of a lonely man, don Baltasar,
alone in the desert street,
the motherland is with him, vidalita
standing guard at the door.
 
Where are the soldiers who don't come?
Where is the people who elected me?
Where are you Generals and Colonels?
Where are you officers of the nation?
 
recited:
The thirtyfirst of march
is stretching in the afternoon
and becomes long the shadow
of the lonely man, who waits.
At four pm
he crosses the center of the street.
The shirt open to the chest
and the chest open to the motherland.
At four pm
a shot is heard on the street
and suddenly begins the night
with a shroud of horror.
 
sung:
At four pm, vidalita,
he was curling, curling.
To leave upright foreveer don Baltasar,
at four pm.
The city seemed dead, vidalita,
the people didn't appear
and the uniforms were, don Baltasar,
saluting the dictator.
 

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Short tailed hound

Singer when you sing loud
You have to think before
If the ideal you preach
Yo can assimilate
There are many who sing loud
Few think while they sing
 
One has to sing with conscience
With grounds and reason
That on every hunting pack
There's always a short tailed hound
Who barks and barks, but doesn't bite
When the moment comes
 
There are singers who protest
With an unique zeal
Is left to know if they feel it
Or they just sing it
Much more says the example
And one has to know to apply it
 
Sometimes I remain hours
Listening to some singer
Of those who vibrate singing
Because they feel the pain
That causes the sincere singing
And from the heart come out
Pieces of soul with notes
Linked by the emotion
 
I feel sorry for the one
Who sings for a reflex
He's like the crying willow
That lookt at itself in the mirror
Of the river running slow
Seeing the willow cry
Their sounding notes might be
Very beautiful but soulless
The willow won't last long
If they take it far from the water
 
For me the singer should be
The mix of man and idea
The suitcase leans
If there's nothing to put on one side
And is a science to learn
To balance the load well
Because life is bitter
Taking someone else's things on one side
Never drink a worse poison
That the one that bleeds from your mouth
 
When you start singing
Do it with grounds
Scream, if you're suffering
Don't sing for boasting
I've seen hounds barking
And jostling against the wind
The singing without feelings
Doesn't serve to jostle
The truth remains stuck
And is seen that you're lying
 
I imagine that you've seen
Maggots in the animals
That's the worst of the diseases
And it ain't pretty to cure it
The maggot isn't of instinct
It has a destructive mission
It attacks in place and hour
That nobody imagines
So many things end
If it gets in the brain
 
Who has seen the marrow
Always stuck in the bone
You will have to be that
Reason of the people waiting
To who aches in the molar
The fang won't be pulled out
The mare watches over the colt
And it grows angry
Never singing bitter
One has defended a principle
 
No matter how many years pass
Don't forget how you began,
Of the one who adviced you,
Who knew to lend you a hand
Of the one who's a friend, a brother!
When you felt weak
And saw you trapped
He came to your ranch
And opened a wide road
By which you escaped
 
If you note that your singing
Serves as aid to the fallen
Don't reject him friend
And put yourself together
And you'll feel beating
In the deep of your chest
The joy of having done
Something that is never charged
For the singer is enough
To leave someone satisfied
 
You'll have a lot of friends
By created interests
Put them all at one side
Looking for good reasons
Like with the chicharrones
Drain the fat properly
And if a piece goes over
Take it out in the slotted spoon
Friendship is something sincere
If it's about accepting it
 
And if it's about friends
Don't get fixed in the color
That is unleashed in the friendship
The man doesn't stand out
By his money or prescence
Better a clean conscience
Than a newly bought suit
Better old and weary
If decency comes with it
 
Have you ever seen
The newborn raven
A white pigeon that in his nest
Showed himself defenseless
But after he grew
A black plumage covers him
And rises to the hightest
With mean arrogance
Unfortunate the chicken
That the murderer discovers
 
Don't tolerate nor endure
If you hear singing nonsense
Attack the den
Don't wait to put on gloves
Don't play the gallant
Better be smart
Don't make yourself be noted better,
Because boasting is not honest
But expose
Who is right
 
That singer who treasures
The ideal of equality
And fights for freedom
At any time and place
Will feel that the weak impolores
Hiding his thought
And hidden in the crowd
Will comment in low voice
What a shame that he's Uruguayan
And asks for revolution!
 
I'm a rebel yes sir
Aware in my rebeliousness
And I'm waiting for the day
For the signer to transforms
Like the labourer, the farmer
The cane worker and the wild
And together we look for what's ours
By right and sweat
And making a better world
Students and teachers
 
Don't use the alcohol
To say your truths
Never say nonsense
Study well what you say.
Don't start the discussion
Better prefer to dodge it
If you're in it and you'll leave it
May it be in a decorous way
And if the thing is ugly,
Hold it until it ends
 
A singer to know
About life and things
Must read many things
Going through the papers.
But the desire of knowing
Requires time and patience
Ripening the conscience
Isn't an easy thing
The one who cut your belly
Gave you independence
 
Don't push anybody to fight
If you're not going to fight with him.
It's easy to advice
And to let someone else to suffer.
Your eloquence could be a lot
And what a sad cowardice
Is to predict them the day
Of near liberation
If he tolerates the prod
Something that you couldn't
 
Singer who sings salty
Will always be prosecuted
His message fought
Here an there
But don't forget boy
Of clenching the teeth strong
Don't look at the present
Deduce what will happen
And reason will sprout
From the zeal of our people
 
If I offended someone in my song
With good intentions speak to me,
You'll see that my chest opens
To understand your reasons.
Don't spread your offense
Chew that cookie well
Because the man who is a trumpet
Is worse than the slug
And is very sk¡ly the thing
To back you up with sandals.
 
And I won't apologize
For the time I sang
I'll never kneel
Because I'don't have many fleas
If I'm wrong, it's my fault
I didn't ask any opinion,
Because I'm not a short tailed hound
To jostle against the wind
I sing because I feel it
For something I was born as singer
 
Someone might think
That I'm talking for the sake of it
He...He won't understand me
If he's not analysing me,
Or he's from the other side
Because he never wore sandals
He might thing, what a tin tongue!
You bore me...
Poor man, his tongue is a rash
Of licking boots so much.
 
Never slacken with them
Give them hard partner
The're not men, they're rats!!!
Neither blood runs through their veins
They are for who pays and orders
Even to kill his brother
They refuse the hand
To the fallen who needs it
They always land face down
And they're eaten, by the maggots!!!
 

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